


This Love

by xmjcx



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Alertnative Universe, Biker Gang, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 07:39:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13162365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmjcx/pseuds/xmjcx
Summary: Bethyl biker gang AU. "If Merle Dixon is trouble spelt with a capital 'T', then Beth Greene honestly has no idea where to even begin with his younger brother, Daryl." Rated M.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, bit of an update - I have two accounts on FF; xmjcx and thenurturingmidwife. I've lost the password to xmjcx, hence the new account. I decided that I wanted to revisit this story, but it's been an awfully long time (think 18 months or so), so I've decided to re-write it. You're more than welcome to read the original on FF, but this version will differ slightly -maybe just some minor details here and there in the early chapters, but the actual plot of the story will definitely change in later chapters - and if you've already read the original on FF then I would encourage you to read this again to re-jig your memory.

If Merle Dixon is trouble spelt with a capital 'T', then Beth Greene honestly does not know where to even begin when it comes to his younger brother, Daryl.

Word about the pair of them has, over the last twenty years or so that she has lived with her family in this town, reached her ears on quite a number of occasions. Although Beth admittedly doesn't know all that much about the brothers, she feels as though she still somehow knows enough.

And it's strange, because until this point in time, Beth has never actually met either one of the Dixon brother's before. Goodness, she's never actually even _seen_ the younger of the two in the flesh before - heard things; yes, of course, and had seen the odd picture here and there, but she has never actually looked at him in person with her own two eyes. There has been the odd occasion where the older one - Merle - had entered the little bakery that she worked at part-time in the centre of town alongside her studies, but that had only ever been briefly, and it had only ever been whenever he had been with a woman (never the same woman twice, though).

Come to think of it, he never actually appeared to purchase any of the products for himself, either.

Still, though, Beth just happens to know things about the two of them from general gossip and rumours that used to spin around her school and now spin around her work, too. It isn't as though the subject itself has ever actually peaked her interest, really. After all, it seems as though the majority of the members of the gang that both of the brother's run are much older than her and her peers, anyway; what, with Merle being somewhere between the age of forty and fifty and Daryl possibly being in his late twenties, but most likely early thirties.

It's just not her type of scene; not her crowd, not her idea of fun, and so even when all of her friends have been whispering and giggling about the 'club', as they call it, Beth's just never really cared. And yet, she knows enough about them - knows probably as much as the rest of the people in this small town do - to feel as though she should have at least met them before.

What she has been told about the brothers and the gang - or 'club' - itself isn't anything concrete, or set in stone, or even definitely true (which is the trouble with small towns - you never know what to believe).

But by now, Beth knows that the two of them are part of a large enough biker gang that practically runs this small Georgia town. Merle is known as being the President and Daryl is his right-hand man (or at least something along those vague lines, anyway, because the blonde won't pretend that she even has the slightest clue about how these sorts of things work, except from what she has seen on TV-shows and movies).

She also knows that they are both currently employed at the only garage in town (because really, who would honestly want to open up a rival business against a gang that is ran by Merle Dixon?) along with the rest of the members of their 'crew' - brothers, she's heard that they call each other.

_Family._

And - despite the fact that she has never met either one of them before - Beth knows that they are bad news. (Young and perhaps slightly naive, Beth refuses to honestly believe that the brothers are bad _people_ , because she cannot make that judgement without knowing them personally; but she knows that they are bad _news_.)

But even so, none of this prior knowledge that she has acquired about the brothers and their club stops her from looking their way now, as she walks through the dimly-lit dive bar that she would never even offer a second glance to in any other circumstance bar this one. Her light blue eyes are wider than usual as she peers around the narrow space that seems to drag on and on and on in search for her father, Hershel, who - according to the bartender who called her home phone (he found it in the directory, apparently) - is in a bad way and needs to be taken home immediately.

The actual bar table is long and wide and Beth spots her father as soon as she catches sight of it. He's perched on one of the long stools, hunched over a glass - the clear liquid in it, she presumes, is water, not vodka - with a solemn expression on his face. Both of the seats that are placed on either side of him are empty and, as difficult as this is for Beth every time that she has to do this _anyway_ , the sight of that causes her to hurt a little bit more because for the first time in a long time, she comes to realise just how truly lonely her father is.

In the past, circumstances in their lives have been very different, to say the least. Hershel Greene is a different sort of drunk every time that he gets drunk, and although he's never once been violent towards her, Beth knows that he has been in the past - to other people, that is. Usually, her father is sat with one or two friends - laughing and slurring and behaving more like a young man of her own age as opposed to the older man (who is approaching retirement) that he actually is, pouting when his youngest daughter comes to drag him away from the stool at the bar.

But tonight, it isn't like that at all. Tonight, the veterinarian looks so sad and so _broken_ that it feels as though Beth's own heart has broken into pieces right inside of her chest. Standing completely still, just a few steps away from him (but not near close enough so that he has registered her presence or has even recognised her face), Beth feels overcome with the sudden urge to burst into tears, and she cannot help but to curse herself for being so soft to her daddy.

A loud noise distracts her and causes her to flinch, and her wide blue eyes momentarily shoot away from her father, and Beth turns directly towards the group of men who are making a rather big fuss and a hell of a lot of noise from where they are sitting at the opposite side of the bar. The bartender who is serving them - a woman with a ridiculously large cleavage and cropped pigtails - is obviously fighting a smile whilst she concentrates on pouring their drinks, evidently pleased (well, at least a little bit, anyway) with the attention that these men are providing her with.

All of the men - there must be about eight or nine, at least; if not a couple more - are wearing sleeveless leather vests that have a huge symbol stitched onto the back. In the poor light and the general fogginess that seems to have settled inside of this bar, Beth can't really make out the symbol; but she's seen it (and some of these men) enough times to know what it is, who they are, what club they belong to.

Before she can even stop herself from staring at them, Beth feels a set of eyes on her. Unable to stop herself, she turns her head towards the right to look in his direction, and as she stands there - just a few inches away from where her father is sat - Beth knows that the man who is staring directly at her is wondering what on earth someone like her is doing standing in a place like this.

Beth knows it because she has honestly been debating the question herself.

Beth's eyes meet with his, and there they stay, and the first coherent thought that springs to mind is that they are the most beautiful shade of blue she's ever seen.

Whilst it's impossible for her to know for sure, Beth cannot shake the feeling that this man is _him_. And if this was a fictional story then there is no doubt in her mind that right now, her breath would catch in her throat and her heart would cease in its beating (if only for a fraction of a second) the very moment that their eyes met from across the expanse of space between them.

Beth knows it would be that way because she can _feel_ the electricity that is buzzing between them; that is flickering and twitching and sparking as he looks at her and she looks at him.

It's Daryl, of course - the younger of the two Dixon brother's. If Beth really needed to clarify her guess then she would only have to look down at his vest to see the badge stitched upon it, the one that declares him to be vice-president of the club he and his 'brother's' seem to love so much.

But Beth doesn't have to do that because she just _knows_. Mostly because she remembers the gossip and the stories and the whispered words said in a longing, flustered tone about how _handsome_ and how _rugged_ and how _gorgeous_ that he was. Even though Beth had never once seen him for herself, after seeing Merle; she had always just assumed that her friends and her peers were completely out of their minds to even think that he was remotely attractive. Figured that he would probably be the spitting image of his older brother (minus a few years, of course), and if she was being honest, Beth had never really understood the fuss behind Merle Dixon, either.

But now that she's here and now that she's really actually looking at him, Beth understands it.

 _Oh_.

It all makes sense now, and even though this moment seems to be carrying on for hours, it has only been a mere few seconds that the two of them have been looking at each other. It's a challenge, a daring game where neither seems to want to look away (and right now, it seems as though Daryl Dixon just might be as equally stubborn as her) and Beth refuses to back down, refuses to give in.

The look that he offers her is darker now, and the man tilts his head down ever so slightly - as though his change in angle might make him appear more intimidating, might force her to swallow down her pride and quickly scurry away.

Maybe he genuinely thinks that it will.

But it doesn't.

So Beth Greene keeps staring right at him; never even blinking, never even moving an inch.

After a second or two more, a hand appears on one of his broad shoulders; and Beth finally blinks at the sight of Daryl turning away from her to face the person who is responsible for clapping him on the back. Beth's light blue eyes take in everything around her and she notes that it's a tall, tanned man who she has definitely seen roaming around before - Caesar, she's sure that he's called - and he's leaning down now to say something into Daryl's ear, probably struggling to be heard over the music that's humming in the background of this dingy place.

When Daryl's eyes drift back towards where she is still stood - even now, frozen to the spot - she still finds his gaze to be intense and powerful, but the spell that had been put on her by his eyes just moments before is now broken and she no longer feels as though everything and everyone around them is frozen in time. From the corner of her eyes, she can see the way in which the tall man is still talking in his ear, and she notices the way in which Daryl jerkily nods his head in understanding.

It is then that Beth moves. Looking away from the man whom she is confident has to be Daryl Dixon, she approaches her father and places a gentle hand on his shoulder, not wanting to startle or upset the older man as she does so. Slowly, her father lifts his head, and when she begins to sob at the sight of her, Beth tries her best to stay strong.

 _She doesn't cry any more_.

Not now that her mama is gone.

The music is still humming in the background of the bar but suddenly, Beth feels a shift in the air around her; and she doesn't have to look in any particular direction to know that near enough everyone in the vicinity is now looking straight at her. It must be a strange sight - Beth, just a tiny slip of a thing, and her father, the complete opposite - and as she wraps an arm around his waist, Hershel instinctively heaves one of his over her shoulders, his bottom lip wobbling along with his legs.

Knowing that everyone is staring at them both just makes her feel angry. Not necessarily bitter or even furious, but it does make her feel angry, and Beth just wants to grunt and kick and shout and yell at them all to look away from her, to tell the crowd that this isn't some sort of show that they have tickets to watch.

But she doesn't do that.

Instead, Beth allows them to watch her as she struggles to walk Hershel Greene out of the dive bar that he had basically been kicked out of. And as she is listening to her father whine about her and how he misses her mother and how he's _so sorry, Bethy_ ; Beth finds herself looking up once more, almost craning her neck, in an attempt to meet his eyes.

And, of course, she does.

She finds that he's looking right at her, still. There's no smirk on his face, no sense of surprise or amusement or judgement there like there is on everyone else in the bar. His expression is basically blank, but it doesn't offend her, and it isn't off-putting. Instead, it makes her feel appreciative; makes her feel _hopeful_ , and causes her to think that actually, this man might just be very, _very_ different to the stories that she has heard.

And Beth never believed that Daryl Dixon was a bad person. Bad news, of course, but a bad _person_ \- no. How could she have thought something so powerful about a man that she had never met before?

The drive home is mostly a blur, and Beth once again struggles to walk her father up the steps of the farmhouse. Instead of worrying herself over taking him upstairs to bed, Beth guides him towards the living room and watches as he plops himself down onto one of the couches, murmuring nonsense as he closes his bright blue eyes.

A sad smile drifts over her face as she moves his head so that it is tilted to one side. Just in case he is sick in his sleep, she thinks - just to make sure that he doesn't choke, if that was to happen.

(It wouldn't be the first time).

Not even bothering to remove her clothes, Beth falls into her bed with a huff and a sigh. Her head nuzzles against the pillow as her mind helplessly wonders about the handsome man she has just encountered at the bar. Questions begin to form in her mind that have never been there before; questions that have never had any need or want to be there before, questions that don't really have any _right_ to be there, either.

Questions like _is he with anyone?_ and _is he in love with someone?_

That night, Beth Greene dreams of Daryl Dixon - a man who she has briefly seen, but never even spoken to. She dreams of his deep blue eyes that hold her gaze so intensely; about his biceps that seem impossibly large, about his scruffy stubble and his too-long hair and his lips and his _everything_. And when she finally wakes up with a throbbing heat between her legs and a flush in her cheeks, Beth Greene realises that last night was the best nights sleep that she has had in a long, long time.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all very much for your lovely comments on the last chapter. I'm so pleased that there are people who have missed this story and I hope that you all continue to enjoy it!

It happens to be nine days until Beth Greene manages to catch another glimpse of Daryl Dixon.

(Not that she's counting, of course.)

That's precisely how long that it takes for her father to give into his vice and truly cave into his sorrow; and although Beth is disappointed by this - because really, how could she not be? - the blonde cannot deny the fact that this is exactly what she had expected him to do. There had been a time, shortly after her mother's sudden death (a heart attack, the doctors had told them) when her father's seemingly genuine promises about how he would never drink again and how he would change had actually meant something to her.

But now, despite the fact that she cannot shut off the naive, hopeful part of her that had prayed that this time around Hershel Greene actually meant what it was that he said, Beth had pretty much been expecting this relapse. There was even a part of her that was surprised that he had made it this long.

There had been a part of the blonde that had expected her father to be at this bar once again, too. Hershel Greene was a man of habit if nothing else, and though the last occasion had been the first time (that Beth knew of) that he had been in this bar that was known for being frequented by the towns _rougher_ inhabitants, she had still been unable to shake the feeling that this is exactly where she would find him the next time that he broke.

It was also almost to be expected that Daryl Dixon and his older brother (along with the rest of their gang) would be here at this bar, too. Over the course of the last nine days, those deep blue eyes of his had (mostly) wormed their way out of her conscious mind and the only time that she ever saw them now was when they haunted her in her dreams. Try as she might, Beth just couldn't shake the look of them every time that she closed her eyes; and although it rationally made absolutely no sense for this _stranger_ to have rooted himself deeply inside of her imagination, that was exactly what he had done.

Goodness, it wasn't as though Beth could just _stop_ thinking about him.

In all honesty, Beth genuinely had not been expecting to see him so soon - because that was just her luck, just the way that her life coasted by - yet there he was, sat in the same spot that he had been in the very first time that she saw him.

There had been a difference in this evening, though; even if it had only been slight. The woman who had been behind the bar last time, though - the brunette with the low pigtails - was nowhere to be seen, and in her place stood Carol Peltier. It wasn't as though Beth was on friendly terms with the older woman, but she had seen her around town every now and then, and plus Carol had introduced herself over the phone when she had called the Greene farm around half an hour before.

Instead of being short and straight to the point like the woman on the last occasion had been, Carol had been softly spoken and more than kind enough as she gently informed Beth that she had found her home telephone number pinned up to the notice board alongside Hershel's name.

The thought was comforting, at first - the idea that the woman who had worked here last week had been kind enough to do something so small, yet still helpful. But then, after a brief while, sadness dawned upon her and Beth couldn't help but feel down about the fact that the other woman had clearly anticipated the fact that Hershel's would be returning to the bar again, no doubt getting himself into a similar state as the last time.

It isn't as though Beth can blame the other woman for believing that her father would return and that his behaviour would be of a similar standard. After all, Beth believed it herself, too. But nonetheless, the realisation of that fact makes Beth feel _sad_.

It makes her upset that someone else - someone who doesn't even know this man, what he's been through or what has happened in his life - has such little faith in his self-control. Not for the first time in the last twelve or so months, Beth wishes with all of her might that her father would just stop behaving like this and finally pull himself together.

Over the phone, Carol had politely explained that whilst her father wasn't necessarily causing any trouble at the bar, he did seem to be in a very bad place and on the most part was quite upset and generally inconsolable.

That was yet another factor in this story of her evening that Beth had been expecting, too. And as much as the blonde doesn't want to have to do this - and it doesn't make her feel guilty, either, because she cannot think of any other person on this entire planet who would actually want to do this - she quickly reassured Carol that she would be down at the bar to collect her father as soon as she possibly could.

And yes, she's a little bit bitter as she jumps into the truck that her parents bought for her on her eighteenth birthday. She's bitter because she knows that this situation that she is in isn't right and it's anything but fair, either. As if losing her mother wasn't enough...

Now, Beth Greene is just twenty years old - still months away from turning twenty one - and somehow, she has found herself feeling more like a parent than a child.

The truck is parked clumsily around the side of the bar (placed next to a long row of motorcycles that she tries her best not to think too much about), and Beth blames her sloppy parking on the fact that she doesn't plan on being inside of the place any longer than necessary. The bar itself is named Terminus; and just the name along makes her feel uneasy, uncomfortable.

There is a man who stands on the entrance door to the bar, and Beth recognises him easily. His name is Tyreese; and Beth knows him well because he is the older brother of one of her close friends, Sasha. Although he looks intimidating at first glance - what, as he towers over six foot tall with dark skin and a broad physique - Tyreese is actually one of the nicest men that Beth has ever met in her life, and he allows her entry to the bar as easily as he did nine days before, not really seeming to give it a second thought as he does.

As she squeezes through the small entry way to the bar, Tyreese flashes her a sympathetic smile. Beth tries her best to just brush it off and not over-think it; trying to convince herself that it must just be how Tyreese smiles at everyone, that he doesn't actually mean anything by it.

(But Beth has known this man since she was thirteen years old, and she knows that it isn't how Tyreese smiles at everyone, knows that he means something by it in the same way that she knows just how much she doesn't want anybody's sympathy).

The bar seems to be much busier than it was the last time that she briefly visited it, and Beth realises in that exact moment that tonight is a Saturday. Bodies are everywhere, making it practically impossible for her to worm her way over to the main bar where she just _knows_ that her father will be.

At the sight of all of the people inside of this bar - none of them her age, but still she would consider them to still be quite youthful - it finally dawns upon Beth that the roles here should most definitely be reversed, and just the thought of it makes her groan inwardly. If social norms are anything for anyone to go by, then it should really be Beth who is currently off her face drunk at a run-down, shoddy bar - not her sixty odd year old father.

But then again, after everything that she has seen and experienced in the last year since her mother passed away, Beth has concluded that she never wants to even taste a drop of alcohol.

 _Ever_.

It's a short few minutes later when Beth is close enough to the main bar to actually see where her father is sat, and she spots Carol behind the bar, pouring a beer - presumably _not_ to give to Hershel - and offering the older man a few concerned glances as she does so. Stubborn and proud as she is, Beth feels a little bit easier and more relaxed knowing that Carol actually seems to want to make sure that her father is alright.

With a soft sigh, Beth once again pushes herself through the crowd of people so that she can step closer towards her father, ignoring the curious side of her that is currently battling over why on earth Carol would possibly need to work here when she already works during the day at the traditional All-American Diner on the outskirts of town...

It is then that the overwhelming feeling of someone's eyes on her practically swallows Beth whole; and the blonde cannot help but be taken over by a strange sense of deja-vu. Immediately, everything comes together in her mind; the way in which she had been standing her, completely still, in near enough the exact same spot (give or take a few inches) of the bar that she had been nine days ago, and the feel of someone staring right at her pulled her away from where she had been concentrating on her father.

It has happened in the exact same way once again, and so without any more hesitation, Beth lifts her light blue eyes in order to scan over the expanse of the bar - which is admittedly different because it's much more crowded this time - but she doesn't try to pretend to herself that she doesn't know it is that she is looking for across the way.

(Who it is that she is _hoping_ for, constantly.)

Of course, it's dark and it's smokey in the bar, meaning that Beth doesn't actually have a very clear view of him. But from where she is standing, Daryl Dixon's eyes seem to be just as much of an intense shade of blue as they were when she saw them for the first time nine days ago.

It makes sense that his eyes are the same colour, this she knows; but there had been a part of her that had thought to herself that perhaps her imagination had just gone into over-drive as she thought on about him. Gradually, Beth had come to accept the fact that she had probably glorified him and allowed her mind to turn him into something that he really just wasn't -

\- but _oh_ , as he sits there on that same bar stood in that same leather vest, beer bottle grasped loosely in one of his large hands and his burning eyes locked on nothing else but _her_ , Beth welcomes with open arms the fact that she had most definitely not given this man more credit than he deserved in any way, shape or form.

Goodness, Daryl Dixon just happens to be utter perfection.

And Beth remembers in that moment what she thought about his brother; about how Merle Dixon is anything but trouble, and how she didn't know where on earth to even begin with Daryl. But now, as she looks straight into his deep eyes and takes in _all_ of him - from the scruff of stubble on his jaw to his too-long hair, from his tanned, scraped skin to his exposed muscular arms - Beth comes to the conclusion that this man is gloriously sinful.

It's not love at first sight, that she knows. Beth has never believed in that, anyway; not considering the fact that her mama and her daddy were both married and in love once before they found each other, not considering the fact that she couldn't possibly be in love with someone that she had never even had a conversation with. But still; it's most definitely lust - a lust that consumes her, inwards and outwards - and god, does she want him.

In all truthfulness, Beth Greene has actually never _wanted_ a man before. Not in this context, anyway; not in a purely sexual manner that strikes her down through the core, in a way that leaves her helplessly dreaming of a stranger for the last nine days, in a way that has her throbbing and hot and desperate with desire. Absolutely all of him is so breathtaking, but it's his eyes that seem to pull her in every time, and since there's no Caesar here to distract him this time (at least, not that she knows of, anyway), Beth honestly has a feeling that they'll be staring at each other like this all night.

Not much runs through her mind in the seconds that follow as they look at one another. Instead, all that is inside of her head is silence; the feel of her heart pumping loudly against her chest with pure and utter excitement is just so overwhelming that Beth really can't figure out a way to think anything at all.

Once again, the spell is broken - something else that was really to be expected - when Carol calls out her name.

The music in the bar is quite loud, but at this point Beth is standing close enough to the woman to be able to hear her, and it's obvious that she can, too; so ignoring her is really out of the question. Frustrated, Beth snaps her head round in Carol's direction; her eyes wide and her lips parted to form a small 'o', a blush rising in her cheeks as she looks the older woman straight in the eyes.

In all honesty, Carol appears to be completely unaware of the fact that Beth and Daryl had been staring at each other so intensely, and she ushers the blonde over with a welcoming smile and a wave of her hand. Her body works on auto-pilot and immediately moves towards the counter at the bar and then towards where her father is sat, and Beth thanks Carol - making sure to hand her a ten dollar bill (for her trouble, she says) - before she wraps both of her slender arms around Hershel's middle and helps him to stand up.

Practice makes perfect, and by now, Beth honestly believes that she has mastered the art of helping her drunken father walk to wherever it is that she needs him to go. The only reason that tonight takes her any longer to help him to reach the truck is because of where she parked it, and as soon as a cool breeze hits the pair of them in the face, Beth can't help but wish that she had just pulled the truck up directly outside of the bar.

Once her father is safely strapped into the passenger seat at the front - which is a battle in itself, because Hershel doesn't actually _want_ to be babied by his twenty year old daughter now that he is sitting in the car - Beth hops out and shuts the door behind her. There is still a slight chill in the air that doesn't seem to want to leave, but it doesn't make Beth feel uncomfortable.

Letting out a gentle sigh, Beth takes a moment to herself to just breathe. Inhaling through her nose and fluttering her eyelids shut, Beth counts from one to ten in her head, blocking out everything else as it tries to make its way through. When Beth re-opens her eyes, she notices that her father has rested his forehead against the door window and is seemingly fast asleep. It's barely been one minute since she shut the door and he's already drooling and snoring and Beth wishes to herself that she could fall asleep that quickly, too.

Instead, it always seems as though she struggles to get any sleep at all at night.

The sound of something shuffling behind her has Beth practically jumping out of her skin in fright, and the blonde spins around quickly to see what it was that has disturbed her. Given the fact that the bar is located quite close to an area of woodland, Beth would have happily put money on the idea of finding that it was some sort of lost and/or scared animal sat staring up at her at that moment in time.

But instead of a raccoon or a doe or a possum, Beth finds Daryl Dixon's blue eyes.

"Oh!"

The word comes flying from her mouth before Beth even realises what she's doing, and although she is slightly embarrassed about how jumpy she was just behaving, she acknowledges the fact that nobody - not even him - can really blame her. Just because it's a small town that they live in doesn't mean that there aren't bad people around and that you shouldn't always be careful; and although Beth always tries her best to have faith in every person that she meets, she also knows that it's foolish to be naive around strangers.

Not everyone you meet should be trusted, especially when you are a twenty year old girl hovering around a run-down bar like this one.

Taking a small step backwards (although Beth has to admit the fact that Daryl wasn't really all that close to her in the first place, to be honest), Daryl seems to be just as surprised as Beth is at their encounter. There have been times in the past where something like this has happened to her before with other men - or, she should say boys, really - and Beth has had a feeling that those particular guys had been doing that on purpose. But right now, it doesn't seem as though Daryl Dixon had any intention of bumping into her.

If he had even given it a second thought then perhaps he had imagined that Beth would have already left the parking lot by now, or maybe he would have anticipated her to have parked somewhere other than right next to this long line of motorcycle's. But either way, Beth can tell just by the small ounce of surprise on Daryl's features that he did not think that Beth would be here right now.

Part of her hopes that he brings up the fact that he was basically undressing her with his eyes inside of the bar, but he doesn't. Instead, he grunts out a quick apology - a short and simple _sorry_ \- and holds up his hands, as if trying to calm her down; as if she was angry or annoyed or enraged by his presence. Her first thought comes from surprise at just how rough and deep and low his voice is. It's scratchy and just so him that Beth almost wants to grin, and it's also hoarse in a way that makes her want to shiver.

(Not because she's feeling cold, though. If anything, Beth Greene is suddenly feeling much, much warmer.)

After an awkward stretch of silence passes between the two of them, Beth shakes her head from side to side and grips the keys to the truck a little bit tighter in her first. "No," she stutters out, feeling a little bit nervous and quite flustered now that she actually feels the need to speak to him. Looking at him from across the way is one thing, but _talking_ to him?

This is _Daryl Dixon_ , for crying out loud. It's hardly someone that she ever imagined herself speaking to, and right now, all she wants to do is make herself _not_ look like a babbling idiot.

"Don't apologise," Beth says, a genuine smile lighting up her face. "It's fine."

From where he stands opposite her, Daryl studies Beth for a good few seconds before he finally jerks his head in a nod. At his movement, Beth's shoulders relax, yet her heart race begins to accelerate when she notices him visibly swallow, and as he does so Beth finds herself to be absolutely mesmerised by the way in which his Adam's apple bobs up and down.

The urge to press her lips against his tanned neck is almost completely overwhelming, and Beth honestly doesn't know what has come over her.

(She does: _him_.)

"I better get goin'," Beth says, a little laugh present in her tone as she awkwardly spits the words out. Daryl is now looking at her with squinted eyes as though he is trying to figure something out, and the sight of him visually analysing her makes Beth feel a little bit uncertain now. It isn't as though the older man can read her thoughts, this she knows; but there is something about the way in which he is looking at her that has Beth feeling as though Daryl suddenly knows every detail about all of the dreams and fantasies she has had about him over the course of the last nine days.

As she stands there in the middle of the parking lot to Terminus, Beth finally recognises just how out of place she must looks. In her worn blue jeans and her mucked up black and white converse, Beth knows that she must be the complete opposite of the women that a man like Daryl Dixon usually finds himself interacting with.

And still, he offers her the slightest of smiles as he nods at her again. "Alright," Daryl says, his voice still low and thick and rough, and Beth resists the urge to shiver for the second time now.

Not really knowing what else to do, Beth slowly makes her way around the truck, resisting the urge to look back over her shoulder and see what it is that Daryl is doing. She supposes that he must be standing still and waiting for her to leave, because all that she can hear is the low hum of music and the sound of laughter in the distance. Beth cannot hear the sound of gravel under boots or the noise of a rumbling bike engine starting up.

Once she has sat herself down in her seat and clicked her seat belt into place, Beth turns her head and looks out of the rear view mirror, watching the way Daryl stands at the edge of what she presumes is his bike. He is staring straight at the truck and although Beth knows that the man won't be able to see anything of her from where he is stood, she still cannot help but feel as though he is looking right at her - watching her every move - as he stands there, waiting.

With a long, drawn-out sigh, Beth turns her key in the ignition and starts up the truck, resisting the urge to look back at Daryl Dixon in the mirror once again until she is moving to pull out of the parking lot. But he isn't behind her any longer and instead is by the side of her, and before Beth can even react to his sudden closeness, Daryl is gone once again - driving off down the road on his bike in the opposite direction to the Greene farm, his exhaust popping loudly as he disappears into the darkness of the night.

When she collapses into bed, Beth finds herself dreaming of Daryl once again. This time, though, she is able to imagine his voice, too - the things that he would say to her, the words that he would murmur in her ear and against her skin. This time, when Beth wakes up in the middle of the night with a loud gasp and an almost painful throbbing sensation between her legs, she cannot help but to slip her hand down into her shorts and finish off what her imagination has started.

And as Beth works herself up incredibly close to her breaking point, she does so imagining that it's Daryl Dixon's fingers rubbing against her clit instead of her own, and when she finally comes, it is his name that spills from her lips.


	3. Three

The dreams that she has of the youngest Dixon brother never do seem to start out with any innocent intentions; although Beth knows that she cannot be blamed for that, of course, since it all happens in her unconscious mind. But these dreams appear to be becoming much, _much_ more intense ad powerful, the images that they contain stay within her when she wakes up and haunt her mind for the duration of the day. It seems to completely impossible for her to concentrate on her studies when all that she can see every time that she closes her eyes is his face, and these dreams in general just seem to be developing in ways that make Beth Greene blush harder than she has ever done before.

And these dreams might shock her in more ways than one, and although she has really made a conscious effort to not put herself down about it, Beth can't seem to help but to question herself whenever she thinks on about it all -

\- because does she really like the idea of Daryl Dixon _yanking_ on her hair, and would she actually _want_ him to do something like that to her if the opportunity ever presented itself?

(Yes, of course she would. One hundred times yes.)

As a whole, these dark dreams that take over her just seem to be completely set in their ways by torturing her with a burning desire that she's never felt before; causing her to feel as though all that she really wants to do in the end is cry out into the darkness of her bedroom, to shout as loudly as she can in frustration, just on the off chance that perhaps he will hear her, and perhaps he will understand.

That perhaps he will come and make it all better.

But she can't do that. After all, it's not _real_ , she knows, because all of this is just stuck in her head - these foggy ideas that this brooding man will come along and save her like some _fucked up_ fairy tale, where the handsome prince is really a mechanic-slash-gang-member and instead of riding on a noble steed, her rides on a motorcycle. It's all just a fantasy that's been drilled into her mind since she was just a little girl, so she knows in her heart that she can't help it, much as she tries.

And more than anything, Beth thinks that it's best that she tries to hold back on the shouting and screaming as loud as she can part, because she knows that her father would hear her clear as day from his own bedroom down the hall, and - on the off chance that Hershel is actually sober - he would most likely panic at the sound.

The last thing that Beth really wants to go and do is to upset and to disturb her father; to make the old veterinarian worry about his sexually frustrated daughter when he already has enough on his plate to deal with.

So. Beth settles for growling as loudly as she possibly can into her pillow, her shoulders trembling as she does so. A few weeks ago, had she been able to see herself now, then Beth would have thought that she had well and truly lost her mind; gone psychotic and broken down. But once she has to stop growling because she can't physically carry on any longer since she actually needs to take a breath before she suffocates herself, Beth is almost surprised to find that actually, she feels better for it, and that the muscles in her shoulders don't feel quite so tense anymore.

But it wasn't the pain in her shoulders that had been bothering her, and the throbbing ache that decided to permanently settle itself in between her legs over two weeks ago is actually bordering on _painful_ now, and no matter how many times Beth attempts - and seemingly succeeds, for a very short while - to satisfy herself, things just seem to have a way of going from bad to worse. It is beginning to get to the point where she feels as though her body is seriously punishing her for attempting to settle down the burning that his deep blue eyes sparked off, and in her mind she is reaching a place where she feels as though the only way that she can quell this fire is to have him for herself.

And it's all well and good thinking that way, except, of course, for the small fact that Beth _can't_ have him.

She can't because she doesn't even know the man, has only shared some longing looks - that honestly might not have even been longing on his part - and a thirty second conversation with him.

(But that almost makes it worse because now she knows his voice, and now instead of just grunts and gasps she can imagine all of the things that he would say to her and _how_ he would say them, too, and those imagined words haunt her just much as the images do).

She can't because she doubts that he would even want her if he was given the chance.

Because _look at her_ ; with her tiny frame - little over five foot tall - and her small breasts and her baby face that makes her look little over seventeen, not almost twenty one.

She can't because she is Beth Greene and she's a _good girl_ and he's - well, he's _Daryl Dixon_.

With a sigh, Beth throws herself backwards on her bed and resists the urge to burst into tears, tears that would fall due to frustration and lust and longing. This man has absolutely no idea what he has done to her - or maybe he does, and that would make him so terribly bad that it would probably turn her on more - and as her frustration bubbles down so that she's no longer as angry as she was when the image of his white teeth sinking into the skin of her neck and drawing blood woke her up, Beth wonders over whether or not she regrets ever looking at Daryl in the first place.

(She doesn't).

*** 

When Beth's truck brakes down precisely twenty four days after the first night that she had picked her father up at the bar, she groans loudly from where she is sat behind the wheel. Beth has always been a religious person - goodness, it would have been practically impossible for her not to be after the upbringing that she has had - but she believes in karma and positive energy and the universe, too; and right now, Beth can't help but believe that this is not an act of God, but is instead an act of the universe.

For some reason, she honestly thinks that the universe really has it out for her at the minute.

There's smoke (and a lot of it) oozing from the hood of the truck, and Beth doesn't need her daddy here with her right now to let her know that something is obviously very wrong with her car. A long, heavy sigh escapes from her lips as she takes a moment to just stare out of the windscreen and at the smoke that is rapidly getting thicker in the air. Her mind is buzzing with what she can only imagine is nerves as Beth clambers out of the drivers side door and moves herself so that she can pull out her cell phone from where it is located in the back pocket of her dark skinny blue jeans.

A quick search on Google (just because she's from some little old town in Georgia doesn't mean that they don't have the internet) is all it takes for Beth to find the phone number for the only garage in town. It's silly to be so worked up about a phone call, that she knows, but rational thinking doesn't seem to be doing anything to calm down her heart, which is currently pounding as hard as it possibly can against her chest.

As the number dials, Beth worries her bottom lip with her teeth in order to not start biting at her finger nails; which is a bad habit that her mama always hated, especially when she caught her daughter's at it. Annette Greene was generally quite pleasant and easy going, but it didn't stop her from coating her children's nails in a bitter-tasting polish in an attempt to get them to stop biting their nails whenever they got nervous.

(The polish didn't work for Beth and her older sister Maggie in the same way that it did for Shawn, and her daddy always said it was because Greene girls were the most stubborn things around.)

When the line is eventually picked up on the other side, it isn't his voice that greets her, and simultaneously Beth feels both relief and disappointment gather in her chest. Neither emotion seems to be outweighing the other at the minute and instead they are gently balancing on a scale, so the blonde can't really be too sure whether or not she would have rather it been Daryl who answered the phone, or whether she is just happy that it was someone called Joe who picked up instead.

The arguments on either side of her answer to that question (because yes, she so desperately wanted it to be him and no, she would have just frozen up and had no idea what to say) seem to be endless. But Beth knows just from glimpsing at her smoking truck that she will most likely be required to pay a visit to the garage to day, so if she really did wish that it would have been him who answered the phone then Beth is in luck as she will be in with a chance of facing Daryl Dixon, anyway.

An internal battle sparks inside of her once again as soon as Joe announces that he will be sending someone down to assist her as soon as possible. The way that the man speaks to her is bordering on condescending, but Beth tries to ignore it whilst he explains in very simple language - almost as though he thinks she is a child as opposed to a grown woman - that he will get someone out to tow her truck down to the garage as soon as possible.

Beth spends the next forty five minutes or so sat on the side of the road in the sweating heat of the afternoon, spending little time thinking about her truck and instead debating over what on earth she would do or say if it was Daryl who came to pick her up; rescuing her as though she was some sort of damsel in distress out of a Disney movie, just like some of her dreams had him doing. At the thought of where her unconscious took her during the dead of the night, Beth cannot help but to blush a deep shade of red, and she begins to play around on her phone in an attempt to distract herself.

When the tow truck finally appears in her line of sight, Beth can tell immediately that the man behind the wheel is in fact not Daryl. If anything, the person who has been sent out to her aid is in fact the complete opposite of the youngest Dixon brother; what, with not a hair on his face and a small, slender physique, he truly is everything that Daryl isn't. His eyes are blue but nowhere near as bright or intense and when he introduces himself to her as Zach, Beth doesn't feel anything sort of flustered the way she did when Daryl spoke to her two weeks ago.

Just because he's not Daryl Dixon doesn't mean that he isn't nice enough, though, and Zach seems alright as he asks her questions about the truck - how long she's had it, what work has been done on it in the past, what happened before she had to call the garage. Throughout their conversation, he laughs and smiles and nods his head animatedly, and as his back is turned towards her whilst he rummages around inside of the hood of the truck, Beth notes that his leather jacket reads _Prospect_.

Beth doesn't know what the word means and she slots it in a space inside of her mind to look into later on, when he isn't standing directly in front of her. Zach babbles on for a minute or so about what he thinks is the problem with the truck - something to do with the engine (which she could have definitely guessed herself, but Beth Greene is definitely no mechanic) - before he invites her to sit inside his own whilst he gets hers placed onto the back.

To say that he is (presumably) a member of the same biker gang that Daryl and his older brother run, Zach isn't at all intimidating and doesn't seem very threatening. If anything, he seems like a normal enough person as he sets of on the ten minute journey towards the garage, chattering on with himself and asking her questions here and there. As they ease into a natural conversation, Beth feels the tension from her shoulders begin to drip out, and despite the fact that she's nervous about the possibility of seeing Daryl at the garage (because Beth thinks that she honestly might just combust at the sight of him), Beth is just glad that she isn't sat at the side of the road any more.

Once they reach the garage and Beth steps out of the tow truck, she is greeted by a range of wolf-whistles and cat-calls. The blonde keeps her chin held high despite the fact that her cheeks are so red that they will probably start to smoke in the same manner that her truck is doing at the moment. Seemingly un-phased by the loud noise that is coming out of the different stalls inside of the garage, Zach offers Beth a smile and nods his head over towards a small building that is attached to the end of the garage.

"You can go have a seat in the reception, if you want," he says to her, and Beth turns her head then in the direction of the building, unable to help herself but to squint at the area that he is sending her off to.

From where she is standing, it sure doesn't look like much of a reception or office area. There are two long glass panels that serve as walls that help her see into it, and Beth can immediately tell that it's just a beaten down room that is in desperate need of a paint job with a few chairs put in it for good measure. Trying her best to look on the bright side of things and see that at least she can get out of the afternoon sun, Beth smiles up at the Prospect in thanks. "Okay," she says, nodding her head. "Should I call for someone to pick me up?"

Turning his upper body so that he is directly facing the smoking truck, Zach lets out a heavy sigh before he nods his head at her. "Yeah," the young man says, his eyes darting between Beth and the truck now. "Probably won't be getting your truck back today, anyway." When Zach sees her face visibly fall, he quickly swoops in to try and reassure her. "But who knows? You might be able to. Or maybe even have it back by tomorrow. I'll get one of our best mechanic's on the job - don't you worry."

Not really too sure of what to say to that (mainly because she instantly feels uncomfortable after the way the men at this place greeted her), Beth nods her head up and down quickly before informing Zach that she will be waiting in the reception. As she makes her way inside of it, she can hear someone from behind her shouting something in her direction - _sweet cheeks_ , she thinks that they call her - and the words have her cringing as she slides inside, shutting the door behind her.

*** 

In the end, it's Maggie that she calls, not her father. Not just because she doesn't want to bother her dad, but because her older sister happens to live in an apartment that's located nearby. Plus, Maggie is probably the most reliable choice out of the two, anyway.

Thankfully, Maggie does not disappoint, and the older of the two Greene girls happens to arrive at the garage in what Beth considers to be record time. The sight of Maggie's little red car pulling into one of the spaces in the lot outside has Beth sighing in relief, but then her light blue eyes are widening dramatically at the sound of her sister's raised voice.

It appears as though Maggie has chosen to deal with the men who work at the garage very differently to Beth's method of ignorance. Her sister has instead decided that she will respond to their whistles and shouts with her own loudly spoken crude words, and whilst the men laugh at her insulting phrases - loud, deep booms that make her wince - none of them actually decide to say anything else to her as she walks past the last of their bays.

Nothing is said about the manner in which she chose to speak to the men (who happen to be in an untouchable _biker gang_ , Beth reminds herself) as Maggie enters the reception. "Hey," Beth says instead in greeting as her sister throws herself down into the chair beside her, her black handbag settling down on the third chair. Smiling, Maggie repeats the greeting, seeming to be completely un-phased by the men outside. "Thanks for comin'," Beth says, shifting on her uncomfortable seat. "I can't believe it. This truck isn't even three years old an' it's already breakin' on me."

Laughing, Maggie shakes her head, causing her cropped auburn hair to fly around her face a little. "Welcome to the world of ownin' a car, Bethy," Maggie says; and before Beth can respond with a chuckle of her own, the door to the reception is being pulled open, and her breath immediately catches in her throat when she realises that it's _him_.

It's a little bit awkward as he hovers in the door of the reception, seeming to be a little sceptical as he looks straight at the two women with narrowed eyes. His broad shoulders are on show because he's wearing a sleeveless flannel underneath his leather jacket, and they had tensed immediately when he realised that there were two people inside of the room.

Daryl recognises her, that much she can tell from his body language alone.

It isn't all that obvious in a way that will probably scream out to her sister, but Beth straight away notices the way in which his deep blue eyes widen ever so slightly when they hover over her and then how they look down the whole length of her - from the top of the hair on her head down to the sole of her tatty white converse - whereas they only linger on Maggie's eyes for a brief moment.

The way that he is staring at her has Beth's cheeks heating up again, and whilst Beth wonders over whether she should say anything to him or whether she should just leave it, someone behind him clears their throat, effectively knocking the youngest Dixon brother back into reality.

It keeps happening this way, Beth realises. With the two of them staring at each other until someone disturbs them and breaks the spell that has been settled upon them. Beth thinks that it's his eyes - so intense and unreadable - and the way that they draw her into him; making her never want to look away, not even to blink. There's an energy in the air between them; be it because of undeniable attraction or sexual attention or just straight-up desire, she's not sure. But there is definitely something there and it's electric and contagious and as nervous and as shy as they both seem to be, Beth still wants more.

She wonders whether she will always want more.

It's Zach who has disturbed them, and as soon as Daryl steps aside so that the younger man can step into the reception, the vibe in the room seems to just switch.

"Have a nice break?" Zach says, smiling at Daryl who doesn't return the gesture.

Instead, Daryl nods his head briefly at the Prospect before his eyes cut back to hers again, narrowed as they lock onto her own. The deep and nervous way that she swallows is visible, that she knows, but it doesn't throw him off as he continues to stand in the doorway of the room.

The sound of Zach's voice echoes through the reception as he talks on at Beth, who is genuinely trying her hardest to listen to what it is that the mechanic is saying, but her eyes keep moving back to Daryl's as though he is a magnet that's pulling her, giving her no choice but to look directly at him. Throughout the whole time - and it has to be a good five minutes or so - that Zach talks on at both of the women (with Maggie occasionally asking questions about what needs to be done on the truck), Daryl stands in silence looking directly at her.

Beth thinks that it's almost a shame when they have to leave, now that he's there and his eyes are on hers. She thinks that she could honestly spend the rest of her day like this and be satisfied, just staring right at him and having him stare directly back at her. It isn't as though they are really communicating with their eyes, because they don't know each other at all, never mind well enough to be able to do that, but there's still something in his gaze that has Beth more than just a little bit curious.

It's impossible to read this man, but god does she want to.

Her body had naturally reacted to the sight of him by causing her to pool with wetness, and when Beth stands up next to her sister to say goodbye to Zach, she squirms as her thighs squeeze together in an attempt to release some of the throbbing tension between her legs. Once she has said a quick thank you to Zach for promising to have her truck returned to her by the morning and the two women move to slip out of the door, Beth notices that Daryl's eyes have squinted a little more, and she offers him a shy smile as he steps out of the reception area so that Maggie and her can make their way over to the red car.

It's as though Maggie didn't notice anything at all between her younger sister and the Vice President of the town's biggest gang as they walk over to the vehicle. As Beth straps her seatbelt in on the passenger side, she casually looks up and out of the windscreen through hooded lashes and spots Daryl Dixon leaning against the wall of the reception area, staring right back at her. There is a cigarette hanging between his lips and as their eyes stay locked on one another's, Beth finds herself to be absolutely fascinated when he blows out some smoke from his mouth.

"What the hell was that all about?"

The blonde had been so lost in looking at the glorious sight of him that she had completely forgot about her sisters presence, and Beth cannot help but to jump at the sound of Maggie's voice before she quickly turned her attention away from Daryl so that she could face her sister. Blushing, Beth stutters over her words. "What do you mean?" she asks, cursing herself in her mind for not being able to be discreet about her now blatantly obvious attraction to the youngest of the two Dixon men.

The problem is that Maggie has always been able to read her younger sibling like a book, and she cocks a brow in Beth's direction the same way that she always does whenever her younger sister is trying to play dumb to something. A knowing smirk is playing on Maggie's face as her hazel eyes glance over to where Daryl is still standing at the reception and then they move back towards Beth, who's cheeks have now turned an even deeper shade of red for what had to be the tenth time that day.

Beth is expecting a bit of a fuss, but she doesn't get it from her sister. "He's hot," is all that Maggie says about it before she starts up the engine and begins to drive.

Had Beth been in a better, more relaxed mood, then she might have laughed and giggled with her older sister about the silly crush that she has on Daryl Dixon. But this isn't a day for gossiping - not when she's had the longest morning of her life in lectures and her only mode of transport has just died on her - and this isn't a silly sort of crush, either.

Beth knows because she's had crushes before in the past; on her friends and on Shawn's friends and even on her teachers, too, and this feels like something so much more than that. It's something that she cannot put into words, but it's something powerful and overwhelming and intense. It's something that makes her want to scream and cry and laugh at the same time, something that makes her want to be bold and brave and nervous and quiet, too. It's something that makes her feel sexy and brazen and wanted and shy and small and withdrawn, and all of these contrasting emotions and feelings are beginning to take their toll on her to the point that she feels exhausted, and the last thing that Beth wants to do right now is explain any of this to her sister.

Not when she can't even understand it for herself, at least.

Beth's light eyes naturally find their way back to Daryl's, and Beth looks at him the entire time that it takes for her sister to drive them out of the garage. On his part, his eyes never leave hers, either, and Beth doesn't know whether or not the long stares that he has given her today make her feel any better about the whole situation or whether they make her feel worse.

(They make her feel better, of course. Much, much better.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so I attempted Daryl's POV and tried my best to move on the interactions for these two as I didn't want to drag it out too much. I'm also trying to involve other characters in this story as I do want there to be *some* plot as well as Bethyl in here, and I can't do that without writing their interactions with other characters.
> 
> I am really not as confident when it comes to writing from Daryl's perspective as I am with Beth's, so please be kind!

Thirty eight days after seeing her for the first time in his life, Daryl Dixon finally concluded that Beth Greene is a straight-up cock tease.

Up until this precise moment, the man had been wary of labelling her as such because he genuinely did not believe that the girl really had all that much of an idea about just how crazy she was currently driving him - and probably countless other men, too, but he didn't really want to think on about that. There had been three occasions so far where the two of them had bumped into one another - and Daryl was pretty damn sure that he would remember if he had seen _this_ girl more times than that - and every tie that he had laid his own eyes upon her, the blonde seemed to have been looking straight back at him, too.

And he'd be lying if he tried to say that he hadn't wanted her since the very first moment that he saw her. There had been women in his life before, sure - hell, his older brother had made it practically impossible for him to _not_ have a woman around at least once in a while - but there had never been anyone who made him feel like this before. Nobody who he had ever actually _wanted_.

The problem here was that this girl didn't even look to be a day over the age of eighteen, never mind twenty one, and whilst there was a lot of illegal shit that Daryl found himself involved in (primarily guns - a fucking _lot_ of them, too), he still had his own personal boundaries; had his own limits, his own morals.

Jail bait had never been something that had ever been close to tempting him.

Well - at least it hadn't ever been, before _her_.

And in all fairness, for all of the innocent glances that she had ever thrown his way, with those big blue eyes and those long, batting eyelashes of hers; Daryl Dixon was pretty damned sure that this girl was anything but inexperienced when it came to self-awareness. He might not have known her well - or at all - but Daryl still knew that Beth Greene sure as hell was nothing like his useless ass who couldn't even decide whether he was upset or angry when things got a little tough. Despite the fact that he had seen her on two occasions struggling to deal with her alcoholic daddy, there still seemed to be this sort of easy-breezy air about her that made it perfectly clear to him that she had not been raised in a similar way that he had been; with a belt and a hard fist.

Whilst there were a lot of things that Daryl couldn't admit to himself, one thing that he managed to was the fact that he was actually glad that Beth Greene seemed to have had at least a half-decent upbringing. The one that Merle and himself had had wasn't something that he would wish upon anyone else on this fucking planet; never mind some sweet-ass girl who didn't seem to really bother anyone at all. And whilst everything about her seemed to physically pull him into her general space in a way that he had never experienced before; the knowledge of just how different the two of them were - not just in the ways that their pasts had been, but also the way that their lives were now - kept him as far away from her as he possibly could be.

If he was a different person - his brother, perhaps, or one of the other guys from the club - then he sure as hell wouldn't have even bothered wasting a fucking minute of his life when it came to approaching her. The guys he called family went up to random women all of the time, and if they got them then it was great, and if they didn't then it was just a case of having a laugh about it and moving on. But Daryl had never really been like that - his brother always did call him the sweet one - and if anything, this girl was something else.

He didn't know her and probably never would, but Daryl knew as soon as he saw her that she deserved a lot better than that. Knew that the tiny slip of a thing deserved more than to be in some shitty bar dragging her drunk dad home like she was his damned mother. Knew that she deserved better than to be getting oggled by some redneck biker who frequented this bar at least a couple of times a week.

But when she looked at him in the way that she did - with her light blue eyes dancing, practically twinkling as they took all of him in - had Daryl thinking that maybe this damned girl felt the exact same thing that he did, too. Whenever her eyes lingered upon his, it almost seemed as though she wanted the same thing that he did, that she had the same thoughts as he was.

Like they were sharing this experience together.

Like the tension wasn't all just on his side.

Like he wasn't some sort of sick pervert for even looking at her in the way that he was.

Compared to all of the previous times that they had seen each other, tonight was... well, it was _different_ , all round. For a start, it was - for once - him invading her space, as opposed to it being the other way round, which he had actually grown accustomed to, to the point where he kind of expected her to come bursting in at any moment. That's the way that it had been on those three times before, with Beth coming to him - either when she entered the bar that he and his gang spent a lot of time at in search for her father, or when she came down to the garage that he _fucking owned_ to get her truck fixed, it was always her coming towards him.

But tonight - for the first time - it had all been him.

And sure, it wasn't as though Beth actually owned the coffee shop that he was currently sat at the back of (at least, he didn't think that she did), but it was her who was stood up on a small makeshift stage with a guitar in her hands, singing some soft song into the microphone that had been put there for her. And it was her family and friends who filled out the majority of the front tables, all cheering her on; smiling and clapping loudly every time that she finished a song.

As Daryl slouched down in his seat at the back of the coffee shop whilst he waited to meet with the town's Sheriff - who, for the record, should have been meeting him at least twenty five minutes ago, which would have made this thing look a lot less creepy since he wouldn't have been sat on his own when she got up on stage and started singing - Daryl tried his best not to feel too uncomfortable.

But since she had first stepped onto that small little stage, her light blue eyes had been lingering on him a little too much for his liking, and it seemed that with every passing minute the blonde was getting bolder and braver. It was quickly becoming far too much for him to simply ignore her - not when he could feel her eyes burning straight into the side of his head - and when she sang some of the lyrics to the songs (whether they were her own original ones or not, he had absolutely no idea), she stared right at him as though they were meant for him and only him.

_He's so tall, and handsome as hell/He's so bad, but he does it so well._

The words were sang so softly and so innocently but all that Daryl had to do was look up and meet her eyes to know that she definitely meant anything but by all of this. It wasn't as though he could tell whether or not she actually wanted him, because Daryl Dixon had never been the best at understanding what was going on in a woman's mind; but he was one hundred percent sure that this girl knew what she was doing to him right now.

_Time is only wasting so why wait for eventually?/If we're gonna do something about it, we should do it right now._

And fuck, she was loving every second of torturing him, he could just _tell_.

(Or, maybe his mind was running a little bit wild with this one, and maybe he was losing it just a little bit).

By the time that Rick Grimes finally makes an appearance in the coffee shop and drops himself into the seat beside him, Daryl has plucked up the courage to just sit here in his seat and watch Beth Greene as she performs. He had only ever heard her name as a random whisper before - some sad words about her mama who had passed away - but he had put two and two together when she showed up at the bar that first night. It was obvious that the blonde was one of Hershel's daughters (mostly because there was no way on earth anyone else would care enough to show up and help the old man like that), and since he knew that the older one was going out with his pizza delivery guy, Glenn (who described his girlfriend Maggie Greene as having brown hair, not blonde), he figured that she was Beth.

After her visit to the garage with her truck, his suspicions of her name were confirmed, but even if he hadn't been as confident as he was with the assumption, then the sound of a young man sat at the front of the coffee shop shouting out "Go on, Beth!" every time that she finished a song was enough to clarify it in his mind.

The next song that she sings is a cover of a Sinatra one - Under My Skin, he thinks it might be called, or something like that anyway - and the blonde has grown in confidence, too, because she is literally looking directly at him (all hooded blue eyes and everything) the whole time that she sings the fucking song. There is definitely nothing at all discreet about the small smiles she offers to him as she sings the chorus, and her breathless giggle once she has finished might as well have sent him under.

Despite the fact that he practically missed the whole fucking performance, Rick Grimes claps loudly along with the rest of the people gathered in the coffee shop from where he is sat beside him. The noise irritates him a lot more than it probably should - hell, if he was a better person then he would probably clap for this girl, too - and Daryl finds it within him to turn his attention away from the blushing blonde and instead focuses on the Sheriff.

"The hell took _you_ so long?" Daryl snaps in his direction, narrowing his eyes at the man. It wasn't as though the two of them were necessarily friends or enemies, per se, but the two of them had what Daryl liked to think of as a _mutual understanding_ when it came to matters about the safety of this town and it's inhabitants, and also when it came down to the club.

Despite being President of the club, Merle was... well, _Merle_ , and he never really did have a way of getting along with law-abiding citizens (and law-enforcement officers) at the best of times. So his big brother seemed to think that it was a much better idea to send Daryl to talk with the Sheriff whenever he damn-well pleased, and if he was being honest, Daryl supposed that it was a better idea to have him here instead of Merle.

But tonight had been different in more ways than one, because tonight had been on the Sheriff's terms, not Daryl's.

The thing was that even if Rick was an officer, he wasn't a bad guy - actually, he was a pretty damn decent guy - and unlike his partner, Shane, Rick understood that the guys who were part of Merle's club weren't bad people, either. There had even been a few times where Daryl had felt as though the two of them were working together, not against each other, even if nobody else around them could really see that.

Shrugging his shoulders, Rick sat back in his seat, looking as though he was trying to get comfortable in it. "Wife," is all that he says in lieu of an explanation, and Daryl's shoulders slowly relax some as he mimics Rick's posture.

It isn't as though the mechanic actually understands all that much about relationships because he has never really had one that hasn't fucked up (and hell, he sure hasn't ever been married before), but he can appreciate the fact that keeping someone happy at all times whilst still trying to look after yourself and your own happiness sure isn't the easiest thing in the world to do. It isn't as though Daryl feels sorry for Rick, because he made the choice to be married, after all, but he supposes that he can understand where he might be coming from with his frustration.

Wanting to change the subject, Daryl clears his throat. "So," he says, trying his hardest to block out the sound of Beth's gentle voice as she announces that this next song will be her last one of the evening. "There any reason you asked me to come down here, or were you jus' plannin' on us havin' a coffee an' a chit-chat about our feelin's like some old gossipin' ladies?"

Shaking his head, Rick lets out a low chuckle, his blue eyes darting between where Beth is stood on the stage and where Daryl is sat beside him. If the man think anything much of the fact that Daryl is currently sat with his hands balled into fists - one by his side, the other on the table between them - and his jaw locked tightly, then he doesn't voice it or even hint towards it. Instead, Rick pulls his Sheriff's hat down from his head and looks at it thoughtfully. "Nah," he says, shaking his head again. "There was a reason."

It's a little bit dramatic for Daryl's liking, this whole conversation, and for a good few seconds it's quiet between the two of them. The sound of Beth singing some song about being good fills his ears, and Daryl fights the temptation to just steal a quick glance at her as much as he possibly can. The mechanic refuses to turn and face the young blonde's direction because he thinks to himself that if he does, then he loses whatever it it that they're playing each other on, and if not giving her attention helps to push her to back off, then that's a win-win for him.

(It's not a win-win for him, though. Of course it isn't. Not when he wants her as much as he does.)

"We need to talk about your brother," Rick says as his eyes dart up from the hat to Daryl's, interrupting the man's over-active thoughts about Beth fucking Greene.

Those words immediately grab his attention and straight away Daryl seems to be even more tense than he was before, which he personally hadn't thought would be possible. "What about him?" Daryl asks, his voice low and hoarse, words coming out slow despite the fact that he wants to rush them all. His breathing is steady and deep, but Daryl knows that it is also heavy - not the way that it is when he's hunting, when he's trying his best to be composed and quiet - and he also knows that Rick can sense the fact that he is suddenly on edge.

It's the mention of Merle, though - it just does this to him, no matter how many years the two of them have been doing this. The club itself tries it's best to stay clean and good and even though it's impossible for it to always be that way, Daryl didn't think that there was some sort of huge problem with the law (at least at the moment, anyway). They're all pretty good at covering up their shit, even the Prospect's, and Daryl wonders what it is that has Merle in trouble with the cops this time.

Sighing, Rick looks back to the hat in his hands. "There's been a problem down at the station."

Narrowing his deep blue eyes in the Sheriff's direction, Daryl is surprised that he isn't physically shaking at this point. He wants nothing more than for Rick to just get to the fucking point here, to just explain to him what on earth is going on with his brother. "The hell is that supposed to mean?" he spits out, his tone bitter and angry.

But Daryl is _seething_ , burning with anger that he can't even describe or explain, and he knows in the small, rational part of his mind that he's panicking; that he's worried and scared and confused. But it doesn't come out that way, and at this point, Daryl is distracted enough by what is being said between Rick and himself that he doesn't actually even register the fact that Beth has finished her last song and is thanking everyone who came down to the coffee shop to support her.

On his face, it is more than evident that Rick is battling emotions, and despite the fact that the man is only silent for a couple of seconds, Daryl's poor temper and general lack of patience means that he is struggling to hold back angry demands regarding his brother. Just before he can open his mouth to say something that he will most likely regret at a later time, though, Rick finally decides to take the opportunity to speak; heaving out a long, drawn-out sigh before he chooses to explain himself fully.

"It's Candy," Rick says, rubbing a hand over his freshly shaven face. "You know, the -" he looks around at everyone briefly, seeming to be satisfied that they are too busy cheering for the blonde who is still stood on stage with a bright smile on her face before leaning in over the table towards Daryl, his voice low and his body suddenly tense. "The escort."

He is still as tense as he was before, but Daryl cannot help himself but to snort loudly and shake his head. "Tha's one way to put it," he mumbles, not necessarily under his breath, but quiet all the same.

Rick doesn't say anything to the sarcastic comment, but Daryl can tell just by his facial expression that the Sheriff knows exactly what it is that he means and that the man actually agrees with him on it, too.

"Yeah, her," Rick says, leaning backwards in his seat once again. "She paid a visit to the station, earlier on this morning. Wasn't there myself, so can't be sure that everythin' I'm gonna tell you is one hundred percent accurate, but it's everythin' that Shane has told me so far, an' I'm pretty sure he wouldn't lie to me about it."

Nodding, Daryl doesn't even think of anything to say to Rick right now. Instead, he carries on staring straight at the Sheriff, waiting for him to get to the point of all of this so that he can just deal with it sooner rather than later. The sighs are getting a lot heavier and a lot more frequent, and Daryl takes it as a bad sign. "She's sayin' that she needs some help, some... advice on what to do, how to testify against your brother."

It's not the worst news that Daryl has ever heard in his life - hell, it's nothing even close to the way that he felt when he realised that his mama had burned herself and their house straight to the ground - but his heart is still pounding in his chest all the same and still swallows thickly as he processes the information. "For wha'?" Daryl asks, his voice low and rough, worry evident on his usually unreadable features.

"Rape."

* * * 

The bar is that he is in is sticky and sweaty and warm. Daryl has never been here before, but now that he's perched on a stool by the bar, he understands exactly why nobody has ever encouraged him to set foot in this place.

It's not to his tastes or liking in the slightest bit, and Daryl smirks to himself at the idea of coming to somewhere like this with any of the guys. It's located in a basement of a property, the upstairs of which is a restaurant that serves tapas and snack food, and the drinks here don't come in bottles, or even classes - they come in mason jars.

What Daryl considers to be even worse is that a big curly straw is places in each drink, and every time that the bar maid plops a fresh drink in front of him, he rips out the straw and tosses it beside him on the bar - just to make a point. (He never said he wasn't a dick, especially when he's drunk).

This place actually has a drinks menu, too, and Daryl naturally pulls his face and throws daggers at every person who comes near him and orders something from that stupid menu. It's just not a place that he's used to despite the fact that it's really pretty harmless, and Daryl never has liked change, yet for some reason unbeknown to him, he sits here as though he's waiting for something.

And then at the sight of Beth Greene descending the stairs a good hour or so later, he finally registers why.

This whole thing between the two of them is getting frustrating as hell, and Daryl hasn't even had a real conversation with the girl. It's all long, drawn out looks from her side that he can't help but return; and despite the fact that Daryl never has been all that confident with women or even bothered regarding them, he suddenly finds himself wanting to approach her.

And he's pretty damned drunk right now, so that would definitely be a bad idea - but as soon as her eyes lock onto his as she walks past him, linking arms with another girl that he doesn't recognise, Daryl has a feeling that it's going to be practically impossible for him to stay away from her tonight.

The biggest issue tonight is the fact that his head is a fucking mess. And it's usually that way anyway, but tonight is just extreme, especially after the conversation that he's had with Rick Grimes. The Sheriff's words buzz around in his head over and over again, and although Daryl really needs to have an important talk with his big brother, he finds himself rooted tightly to his seat at the bar.

And now that he's here, most of those negative thoughts that had been swirling around in his mind - about his brother and what he was going to do, about that bitch and her fake rape charge (because Daryl _knows_ that Merle, despite being a pretty horrible person when he wanted to be, would never do that to a woman) - disappear. It's bad, that he knows, and he doesn't want this girl to have any sort of affect on him.

Not like this.

But this girl - _Beth_ \- she has this pull on him, some sort of magnetic effect that he just can't explain or understand. It's not just because he thinks she's hot, because he's thought that of other women before and never felt like this. And it's not like it's all just sexual tension - even though that's a pretty big part of it - but he doesn't really know what it is, and feeling this way about a girl he has barely even spoken to just makes him feel all sorts of pissed off.

(Daryl can't really deny the fact that he isn't very good at dealing with his emotions, either.)

It's another torturous twenty minutes of drinking and playing on his phone before Daryl decides that he needs to leave this place. The thought of her being there when he's in this sort of state is just too much, and he heaves out a sigh before pushing himself up and heading towards the men's bathroom.

This is also the sort of place that has three bathrooms; a men's, a women's, and a unisex. At the sight of the ones in the middle, Daryl rolls his eyes, not sure why the hell there was a need for a fucking unisex bathroom.

Once he's ready to leave, Daryl quickly exits the bathroom, not really paying attention to his surroundings and walking directly into someone else's much smaller body. It's not like he's really effected by the contact, but the other person is, and he quickly reaches out despite himself to steady them, his eyes unfocused in the smokey darkness of the bar.

"Watch where you're _goin_ '," he bites out, his tone harsh.

The body stiffens under his grasp and Daryl immediately lets go at the sound of their voice, the realisation of who it is hitting him straight in the face. He drops her arms like they've burned his skin, and his eyes widen for a brief moment before they dramatically narrow instead.

"Sorry," Beth says, shaking her head and blinking up at him. "I didn't mean to."

The music playing in the bar has been pissing him off the whole time that he's been here, practically encouraging his head to throb violently because it was that loud. But all of a sudden it feels incredibly quiet, and now that she's stood here in front of him, it's like everything around them has slowed down.

His eyes are still narrowed and his posture is still tense and defensive, but the pull comes over him once again and Daryl can't help but relax ever so slightly after a second or two. From where she's stood in front of him, Beth does the same, and even though he figured that she was supposed to be going to the bathroom, that seems to have been forgotten as she blinks up at him.

"I'm Beth," she breathes out, unexpectedly breaking the silence between them. Perhaps it's the alcohol that's slowing down his reflexes, or maybe he's just not as observant as he's getting older, but he stands there looking all dumbfounded as Beth reaches one of her small hands out to him.

Daryl frowns down at the sight of it before his eyes flicker up to meet with hers again, but even the soft, nervous smile on her face isn't enough to encourage him to touch her again. Now that he know how she feels underneath his fingertips - all smooth and soft - Daryl isn't sure that he'll be able to sleep tonight, and he doesn't want to add to this weird thing that's going on between the two of them.

Instead, he nods his head at her. "I know," he says, not bothering to introduce himself to her in return. Daryl might be a lot of things, but he sure as hell isn't stupid; and he doesn't even have to be any sort of genius to figure out that everyone in this town knows who he is - Beth included. It's not like he likes it, in fact, it's quite the opposite - Daryl can't stand people knowing who he is, and the last thing that he wants is for someone he doesn't even know to be poking around in his business, acting like they know everything about him because they've heard stories or seen him pass in the street.

The girl is quiet again now, and Daryl doesn't know whether it's a good or bad thing. Even so, he tries not to think about it too much and instead shifts around on his feet, trying to make it clear to her without it being incredibly awkward that he's going to move away from her now.

But then her hand is wrapping around his arm and she's stepping closer to him, and Daryl can't do anything but tense up, freezing on the spot in pure and utter shock. This time, he doesn't try and hide the fact that she's surprised him, but just when he's about to lash out at her for getting all up in his personal space, Beth seems to realise what she's done and drops her hand.

The blonde isn't drunk, not like him - he can just tell. He can tell by the fact that she's standing perfectly fine on both feet, by the fact that her breath smells minty and fresh and her eyes are wide and twinkling.

"I saw you at the coffee shop," she says, her voice low now, her eyes raising up from where they had been lingering on his bare arm so that she's looking directly at him. She's nervous, he realises - her words are a little shaky and her eyes are wider than usual.

When he doesn't respond, Beth visibly swallows. "I didn't know that you knew Rick."

He snorts at that. "Girl, you don't know shit about me," he says, and Daryl is actually a little bit surprised at just how harsh his tone is.

(Yeah - he really is a dick when he's drunk.)

For a few seconds, her expression turns angry, and Daryl is expecting her to reach out sand slap him with her hand or bite some harsh words back at him. Instead, the blonde inhales and exhales deeply before offering him a soft smile, looking as though she has suddenly turned calm.

It's actually annoying, because a big part of him had _wanted_ that sort of reaction from her. There's probably no use trying to push this girl away but he can't help himself but try, despite the fact that she doesn't seem very interested in his intentions.

"Guess I don't," Beth breathes out, her voice soft and low. Daryl doesn't feel guilty for the way that he has spoken to her, but he exhales a deep breath of his own anyway, trying his best to compose his wild thoughts before they drift off too far.

Because before he can actually register what it is that he's doing, Daryl is staring directly at her lips and nowhere else. If the look on her face is anything to go by then Beth knows exactly where it is he's looking and exactly what it is that he's thinking, but she doesn't move her own eyes away from his.

The pattern of her breathing is something akin to hypnotising him as he watches her chest move up and down, watches her lips twitches slightly every time that she breathes in and then out. In a way, it's calming to him, and his own breathing is soon matching hers; although that had never been what he had intended, never been what he had been looking for.

He is mesmerised as he watches her tongue creep out and swipe against her bottom lip, wetting it with her spit so that it shines all of a sudden. At the sight of her doing it, Daryl sucks in a breath, and his earlier suspicion is now confirmed: Beth Greene is _definitely_ a cock tease.

She knows what she's doing, he's sure of it, but it doesn't stop him from creeping closer towards her. Daryl is a little bit taken aback by the fact that she's still standing here in front of him, especially after the way that he's spoken to her, and he can't help but think to himself that he hopes that she knows he didn't mean to be that way towards her. If he could somehow find the words then maybe he would apologise (but _fuck_ , he's a dick, so he probably wouldn't) so instead Daryl clears his throat.

"'M a dick," he murmurs, edging closer towards her so that he can feel her breath on his face now. "When I'm drunk."

He's leaning down, further and further, being pulled in by her and he just can't stop it. Even if he wanted to, Daryl knows that he's too far gone right now - too drawn in by the temptation of her lips and the steadiness of her breathing and the moistness of her tongue. Beth breathes out a little laugh, and the sound actually forces him to smile, but the moment isn't very long-lived because then his lips are covering hers.

Her mouth is soft against his own and even though it had to be obvious what he was doing, Beth still sags in relief against him as though she wasn't expecting this to ever happen. As his lips move against her own, Daryl knows for sure that she's not had a drink, and the knowledge that he's not taking advantage of this tiny slip of a girl makes him feel a tiny bit better.

(If anything, it's her taking advantage of him, but he's not going down that route right now, not going to think too much of it.)

When his tongue slips inside of her mouth Beth lets a little moan escape her, and the sound vibrates through his throat in a delicious manner. It encourages him to move closer towards her, and after a few clumsy and mindless steps backwards, Daryl has Beth pinned beneath him against the wall. One of his legs moves so that his thigh is resting between the both of hers, and she quickly shifts against him; taking the bait and rubbing herself onto his leg, whining into his mouth as she does so and raking her fingers through his hair.

This whole thing between them has never been innocent, and this kiss sure as hell isn't innocent, either. Their lips move together at a quickening pace, and as Daryl sucks and bites and nips at her lips and her tongue, Beth moans more into his mouth. It gets to a point where the mechanic worries that he's being a little too rough with her - particularly when he grabs her hips and yanks her further up his thigh, dragging her impossibly closer to him in a way that has her letting out a surprised squeal - but Beth doesn't seem to be bothered by his actions, so he doesn't think any more of it.

At the start of this kiss, his hazy drunken mind had considered that maybe this would help things between them die down, that maybe it would quell the fire and desire that had been building inside of him since the first time that he saw her. But now that he has touched her and tasted her, Daryl knows for a fact that this won't make anything between them any better.

If anything, it will surely make them worse. (It won't stop him kissing her, though - not at all).


End file.
